


All Tracks, All the Time

by AnonAutobot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonAutobot/pseuds/AnonAutobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for this kink meme prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/7561.html?thread=6737033#t6737033</p><p>So you all know how Tracks is totally struck on himself? Let’s just say that his standards are so high that when he wants some lovin’ the only bot good enough for him is himself. But masturbation is getting boring so he needs to step up his game.<br/>Here’s where Hound comes in. You know how he makes those holograms? Yeah, I am so going there.<br/>Tracks asks Hound for a little favor. He wants an exact replica of himself, no questions asked. The hologram is kind of like a drone. It can’t talk, its movements are limited, and it has no thoughts of its own. So when Tracks gets it he takes it to his room and coddles it like crazy. (gives it a wash and wax, pets it, flatters it)<br/>Eventually he makes his way into the berth with it and sexes it up.<br/>Anon would like to see:<br/>Details. It’s all in the details. Like how Tracks washes it, strokes it, and interfaces with it.<br/>Slow, gentle interfacing with Tracks spiking. Lots of affection and moaning going on.<br/>Sticky please. Multiple overloads if possible.<br/>Do not want: Any violence or mistreatment of the hologram.<br/>Bonus points if:<br/>Hound has to be close to the hologram in order to keep it working. He could stay outside of the room and hear all the noises.<br/>Hound has to be in the same room.<br/>Anon prefers Tracks but could see this prompt working well for Sunstreaker too.<br/>Drive by bonus: When he chooses, Hound can feel most of what his hologram does...<br/>...but doesn't bother to tell our pretty little narcissist that... XD</p><p> </p><p>With bonus invisi-Mirage interfacing.</p>
    </blockquote>





	All Tracks, All the Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this kink meme prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/7561.html?thread=6737033#t6737033
> 
> So you all know how Tracks is totally struck on himself? Let’s just say that his standards are so high that when he wants some lovin’ the only bot good enough for him is himself. But masturbation is getting boring so he needs to step up his game.  
> Here’s where Hound comes in. You know how he makes those holograms? Yeah, I am so going there.  
> Tracks asks Hound for a little favor. He wants an exact replica of himself, no questions asked. The hologram is kind of like a drone. It can’t talk, its movements are limited, and it has no thoughts of its own. So when Tracks gets it he takes it to his room and coddles it like crazy. (gives it a wash and wax, pets it, flatters it)  
> Eventually he makes his way into the berth with it and sexes it up.  
> Anon would like to see:  
> Details. It’s all in the details. Like how Tracks washes it, strokes it, and interfaces with it.  
> Slow, gentle interfacing with Tracks spiking. Lots of affection and moaning going on.  
> Sticky please. Multiple overloads if possible.  
> Do not want: Any violence or mistreatment of the hologram.  
> Bonus points if:  
> Hound has to be close to the hologram in order to keep it working. He could stay outside of the room and hear all the noises.  
> Hound has to be in the same room.  
> Anon prefers Tracks but could see this prompt working well for Sunstreaker too.  
> Drive by bonus: When he chooses, Hound can feel most of what his hologram does...  
> ...but doesn't bother to tell our pretty little narcissist that... XD
> 
>  
> 
> With bonus invisi-Mirage interfacing.

Blue hands skimmed over black thigh plating; fingers splayed, tracing small circles as they moved. Tracks arched, spike standing proud, twitching as those fingers moved ever closer to it. He groaned as the fingers closed over his spike, squeezing gently. One hand stayed on his spike, the other slipping down to tease at his valve, causing him to groan again. His valve was wet, lubricant glistening on the rim, coating the fingers teasing him. The hand around his spike squeezed again, distracting him from the two fingers slipping into his valve. He moaned, biting his lip and the fingers thrust in tandem to the pumping of his spike. He overloaded quickly, hips pushing forward, as he covered the berth in a mixture of transfluid and lubricant.

Tracks sighed in contentment, withdrawing his fingers from his valve and cleaning them. Cleaning his plating and the berth, he disposed of the cleaning cloth and settled back on his berth. It was beginning to get tiresome, all this self-interfacing. Masturbation as Raoul called it. If only there was an Autobot worthy of him. Sunstreaker was the closest, but even he didn’t match up. Heaving another sigh, Tracks looked down at himself, blue plating gleaming in the low light of his room. Nobot could match his standards… except himself.

Tracks sat bolt upright, surprised that he’d never thought of the idea before.

 

“Hound…” The tracker looked up as Tracks sat down at his table, energon cube in hand.  
“Tracks, what can I do for you?” He knew that look in Tracks’ optics, knew that the mech was after something.  
“I’ve got a proposition for you.”  
“Now you know that me and Mirage are just getting serious, right…?” Hound reminded him. Tracks looked aghast.  
“I would never…” He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He paused, looking around before continuing. “I would like you to create a hologram for me to… interact with.”  
“Interact?” Hound asked, knowing that he’d likely regret it.  
“Yes, interact with.” Tracks repeated, not elaborating.  
“All right…” Hound agreed cautiously, still not entirely sure what Tracks was up to.  
“Thank you.” Tracks smiled, and Hound couldn’t help but smile back. Despite loving Mirage, he couldn’t deny that Tracks was certainly an attractive mech.  
“Now, what do you want the hologram to look like?”  
“Me.” Tracks answered promptly. Hound cycled his optics.  
“You want the hologram to look like you?”  
“Yes.” Nodding, Tracks took a sip of his energon. “I find I have almost impossibly high standards, and this seems to be the only solution.” Hound cycled his optics again.  
“All right. I’m off shift tomorrow evening, if that suits you?”  
“Perfect.” Tracks smiled again, and Hound felt his spark skip a pulse. “Thank you Hound, I really do appreciate this.”

 

Tracks looked around his room, double-checking that he had everything he might need. He was ready. Now all he had to do was wait. Hound had arranged the time with him that morning before they both went on shift. He’d already cleaned and polished himself after his patrol, and was waiting for Hound to turn up. The tracker had told him that he needed to be nearby to maintain a solid-form hologram like Tracks wanted. And he was perfectly happy to wait outside. He certainly didn’t want to be in the room observing what happened. Tracks wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but presumed that Hound knew best.

The door chime sounded, and Tracks jumped. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. No more worries about high standards. He opened the door to be greeted by himself standing there. He paused for just a moment, taking in the breath-taking beauty of the mechdrone in front of him.  
“Perfect.” He murmured, reaching to take the drone’s hand. It even felt warm, and Tracks made a mental note to thank Hound profusely for this once it was all over.

He led the drone to the center of his room, and stood him there, circling around to appreciate himself from all angles. Primus, he knew he had a nice aft, but actually being able to stare at it like this was amazing. He longed to run his hands over that smooth plating. But that was for later. Well… perhaps not…  
“Come on, I have a treat for you.” He led the drone towards his personal washracks. He’d made such a fuss (as had Sunstreaker) about having to ‘slum it’ with the other mechs that Wheeljack had installed washracks for them. The drone followed, limited in its movements. But Tracks didn’t mind. He didn’t mind directing the drone, didn’t mind taking the lead.

Once in the washracks, Tracks positioned the drone under the spray, turning it on and admiring the way the water sluiced down his blue plating. Perfect. Lifting his hands, he allowed himself to touch the drone, hands skimming along its plating, following the water. Then he reached for the cleanser, playfully squirting the plating before squirting cleanser onto a cloth. Slowly, gently, he rubbed the cleanser in, taking his time using light teasing touches. He swore he could almost feel the motion on his own plating.

Outside in the hallway, Hound had set himself up on a chair, a few energon cubes stacked by it. He’d agreed that Tracks would have the solid-form hologram for the night. Perhaps that had been a bit excessive, given that he might not get much rest, but the look on Tracks’ face had been hard to resist. It wasn’t like Bluestreak’s bumblepuppy expression. This one was different. Tracks’ expression had promised great things if he agreed.

His plating tingled and he looked around, wondering if perhaps Mirage had managed to avoid his patrol that evening. But he saw nothing. Frowning, he realised that he was getting feedback from the hologram. There was little he could do about that, at least while the hologram was active. Perhaps he could get Ratchet to look at the settings on his holoemitter in the morning. For now, he did his best to ignore it.

 

Once Tracks had spread cleanser on the hologram, working it into the joints (and how realistic that was!), he turned the spray on higher to rinse the cleanser off. Towelling off himself and… himself, he led the drone to his berth. Prompting him to lie down on his front, Tracks picked up his favourite wax, dipping a cloth in it. He moved the cloth across the drone’s plating, smoothing the wax on. It was relaxing, both to put wax on and to be waxed, and Tracks found himself drifting in a pleasant haze. This wax had a nice aroma, something that when he used it on himself, he could smell it for the rest of the day. It was something he used whenever he felt he needed a little pick-me-up, a little pampering. And it was actually nice to be pampering himself like this.

He could almost swear he could feel his own touches on his plating. But that was ridiculous.

 

It wasn’t ridiculous to Hound, who could feel every touch on his plating; the soft glide of the waxing cloth as it smoothed the polish on. Then the different texture of the cloth used to buff the wax away, creating the shine that Tracks was known for. Hound squirmed a little in his chair, reaching down to see if a little energon would take his processor off what his holoemitter was doing.

Sadly, all he ended up doing was spilling energon on himself as he felt a gentle touch on his interface panel.

Tracks, having gotten the drone to turn over so he could continue waxing, let his touches turn more amorous. He hadn’t meant to. Well, perhaps he had, but certainly not this early into the evening. The waxing, however, had revved him up more than he thought it would. A few sweeping brushes across the drone’s interface panel and Tracks’ own panel snapped open. He motioned for the drone to open his own panel, smiling as he did. His own spike and valve stared back at him, and he was entranced for long moments. Amazing how detailed Hound’s scans were. Amazed at how perfect he looked.  
“Beautiful.” He murmured,, stroking the outside of the drone’s array, fingers teasingly close to the valve. But he didn’t touch, not quite yet. He continued his waxing, the sweeps of the cloth becoming longer and longer as he tried to restrain himself. He wanted to touch, wanted to touch himself. Wanted to tease the mech, see what reactions he could actually get. Hound had already told him that the drone had only limited movement, but he didn’t care.

Finishing the wax, he tossed the cloth to one side, letting his fingers glide over the freshly waxed plating. It was smooth, like he knew his plating to be, and warm to the touch. He let out a soft moan at the feeling. It was intoxicating to watch himself touching… himself. He knew what his own touch felt like, knew exactly where to touch to arouse himself. He used that knowledge to touch the drone, seeking to arouse it. Hound had promised him that it could be aroused.

Outside, Hound squirmed as he felt fingers touch the rim of his valve. Well, it felt like fingers touching the rim of his valve. He knew though that it was feedback from his holoemitter. But still... he unconsciously parted his legs, as though giving his unseen arouser more space.

Inside Tracks’ room, the clone did the same, spreading his legs for Tracks. Tracks took advantage, climbing up on the berth and slipping neatly between the drone’s legs. He kept his touches light, teasing, as he flirted around the rim of the drone’s valve. Changing tactics, he grasped the drone’s spike with one hand, tugging gently. He moaned as the drone responded, arching up into his hand. The feel of his hand around another spike, even though it was exactly the same as his own made his own spike twitch.  
“So beautiful.” He crooned, optics focussed on the drone’s spike. On his spike. He moved his hand, slowly, up and down the spike, watching the clone’s reactions.

Hound groaned. The touch had moved to his spike, and he actually had to slide his own interface panel back to relieve the pressure

“You don’t know how much I want you.” Tracks whispered. “I want to sink my spike into this delicious valve.” Tracks punctuated his words with a slow drag around the rim of the drone’s valve.  
“I want to feel you clench around my spike.” He thrust a finger in, watching the drone react and arch, pushing down against his finger.  
“Perfect.” He added another finger, feeling the lubricant well up. He scissored his fingers, making the drone squirm on the berth, mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure.

Hound’s fingers were in his valve before he even registered he’d moved them. His energon cube slipped from his grip, his whole attention focussed on the feelings from his holoemitter.

“Let me please you.” Tracks whispered, spike nudging the rim of the drone’s valve. The drone said nothing, and Tracks pushed forward, sliding into the wet heat of the drone’s valve. Of his valve. He really did feel good. He groaned as he seated himself to the hilt, gazing down at his own face.  
“Beautiful. Utter perfection.” He kissed the drone, pulling back and snapping his hips forward. Another moan, another thrust.  
“So good.” He stilled, feeling the valve clench around him, imagining the drone begging him to continue.

“Frag…” Hound bit out the curse, fingers deep in his valve as his overload struck.  
“Well well well, what do we have here?” A disembodied voice asked, and Hound couldn’t even find it in himself to be ashamed that he’d just overloaded himself in a public corridor.  
“Feedback.” He muttered hoarsely, static lacing his vocaliser.  
“Feedback.” Mirage repeated, half in disbelief.  
“From my holoemitter.” Hound tried to explain, sensors registering Mirage’s position easily. Tracks’ cry from inside the room cut off anything Mirage was going to say. His optics narrowed.  
“I see.”  
“It’s not like that Mirage. I think there’s something wrong with the emitter. I don’t normally get feedback like this.” His vents caught as an invisible weight settled on his legs.  
“Well then, we’ll have to make the most of it.” Hound swore he could see the smirk on Mirage’s face.

Tracks had overloaded hard, static appearing in his optical feed as his vents worked hard to cool him down. He lay slumped over the hologram, grateful that it couldn’t scratch his paint. That had been good. Very good.  
“Spectacular.” He muttered aloud. He would certainly have to thank Hound. Slowly regaining his senses, he sat up on the berth, reaching across for the energon he’d stashed on the table nearby earlier.  
“I would offer you some…” He raised the cube in a toast to the drone.  
“To the best ‘facing I’ve ever had. And it would be with myself.” He downed the cube in one.

 

He’d just reached his fourth overload when the hologram drone disappeared, leaving him on his knees on the berth, spike out, transfluid splattered on the berth.  
“What the frag?” He muttered, glad that he’d actually managed to overload before the hologram disappeared. Cleaning himself quickly, he opened his door. Hound was sprawled in his chair, spike out, looking thoroughly debauched.  
“Hound?” Hound stirred, leaning his head back over the chair to look at Tracks.  
“Tracks… I can… uh… explain…” He slurred.  
“No you can’t.” An invisible voice whispered in his audio before disappearing. Tracks stared at Hound, not having heard Mirage speak.  
“Well, explain then….”

 

END.

Yeah, Mirage had to be a bit of a prick there.  
And sorry about the poor title.


End file.
